Not a Beast, Never a Beast
by Raven of the Shadows
Summary: He was called a Beast. By what definitions? I ask.


_Dedicated to Humanity._

* * *

 **Not a Beast. Never a Beast.**

In the psychology class, we were asked to define a man. A lot of definitions came up. Debates occurred, and we all shouted like baboons. It escalated to a level that the teacher had to take the topic back.

But, in my head, one definition had stuck.

 **o§o**

 _What is that which in the morning goeth upon four feet?_

He was a happy baby. The apple of Hope and Lyall Lupin's eyes, he was a cute little thing with a tuft of light brown hair on his head. He had bright, forest green eyes that kept dancing around, observing anything and everything, trying to quench an endless well of curiosity.

He had been a year old, barely able to crawl on his four feet, when he had his first bout of accidental magic. The little guy was bored out of his mind. His mother was cooking something new again, a cookbook in her hand. His dad was reading the newspaper. So, of course, he wanted his own material. He waved his hand wildly from where he was sitting on the carpet, and lo! His favourite picture book came zooming out of the shelf and into his hand. His parents, whose attention had been drawn to the flying book, beamed with pride.

All was good for the Lupins before it happened.

The first transformation was the worst. Twas the night of his fifth birthday. Mr and Mrs Lupin had to leave him alone in a forest that was far enough from civilisation. The five-year-old boy was crying for them, and they couldn't do anything. A few minutes before the moon rose, Lyall had to lead his sobbing wife out. He himself was in tears, as the only thing he could tell his baby boy was that they could come to take him back in the morning, if…  
That was too terrible of a thought.

When, the next morning, they picked him up from the woods, he was lying naked on the forest floor, covered in blood, sharp gashes marring his previously beautiful face.

That day, Lyall took the young boy to the Ministry to get his name recorded with the Beast Division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. By the time they reached the department, Remus was nearly in tears. He had come to the Ministry before, but today was different. All his father's friends and colleagues who used to adore him were looking at him in disgust. There was this one girl in a horrible pink cardigan who even kicked him in the shin.

Also, Lyall was informed that he had been demoted for 'housing a dark creature'.

They were directed to talk to the person who manned the Werewolf Register. The man, who introduced himself as Lucas Macnair, sneered at Remus, asked his name and when he became a beast, gave him a Werewolf Rulebook, which Remus was instructed to keep on him all his life, and asked the young boy to follow him. Lyall was told to wait.

Macnair led Remus to the lowest level of the Ministry. They walked past the courtrooms, their footsteps echoing in the empty hall. At the very end of the corridor was a black door, which was almost blending into the wall in the dim light.

He unlocked the door with a tiny silver key and pushed Remus inside.

The room was dark and dingy, with no windows at all. The young boy could almost taste the metallic taste of blood that hung in the air. On one side, heavy metal chains were hanging from the ceiling to chain someone. On the other side, there was a table, and a silver bow and quiver full of arrows were lying atop it. Remus stared at the weapons and shuddered.

Macnair pushed him against the wall. "One accident, you wretched beast," he said, "one small accident, one toe out of the line, and I swear I will myself plunge a silver arrow inside your heart."

Remus clenched his eyes shut and nodded, trying not to think of the horrible picture this man had painted. He let Macnair drag him back to the Beast Division office. When he saw his father, Remus ran towards him, but before he could hug Lyall, Macnair recited: "Rule number 32: No physical contact with human beings. Remember what I said, beast!"

Remus never told his parents what he had seen down there. But one thing was certain. Remus John Lupin would never be a child this day onwards.

 **o§o**

 _What is that which goeth upon two feet in the afternoon?_

We all have to work hard to stand on our own two feet, both literally and figuratively, isn't it? But, against what Remus faced, it is nothing.

Yes, he was accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry by Albus Dumbledore. What was the big deal in that? All capable witches and wizards who are eleven years of age are offered a spot at the school. Remus was a wizard, but until the day Dumbledore came to give him his letter, he had been under the notion that he would never go to Hogwarts, that he would never learn magic.

At the school, he worked relentlessly to impress the teachers lest he should be expelled. He had to lie to his friends at their faces, month after month, coming up with excuses to explain his absence.

And then they discovered his secret. For once, fate smiled on him when his friends accepted him as he was. He didn't even accept _that_ easily and was always waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Which did drop, when Sirius set up Snape for a date with Remus on the full moon. Had it not for Dumbledore, Remus would have been executed.

Not that his troubles ended after the school. His condition slammed several doors shut in his face, even though he had the necessary credentials. He was always doing odd jobs, searching for new places to work, trying his level best to keep a full stomach and a roof over his head. Just because no one wanted a creature like him work for them.

Then, his one best friend betrayed the family of his other best friend and killed the third. Before he could even pick up the pieces of his shattered heart, his mother died. Completely crushed, Remus Lupin was plunged into the darker-than-tartarus pit of depression for a decade.

Under the shadows of his escaped-convict-of-a-friend looming over his head, he finally got a steady job, a place to live in, and plenty of food. It was one of the brightest years of his life. He gained his friend back in the end, but lost everything else.

 **o§o**

 _What is which in the Evening, goeth upon three?_

Though Remus' hair greyed prematurely, he never did use a walking stick. For that matter, neither did Albus Dumbledore. So, let us assume that, in the wizarding world, walking sticks and staffs were for the weak, like Malfoy, and not for the strong.

Nevertheless, Remus rarely did have a support. Truthfully, the only steady support he found in his life was that of one Nymphadora Tonks. They had a son together, and shortly after that, the young Lupins lost their lives in the war.

Remus Lupin never lived to see his old age. Yet, in his story, I found I could tick a 'yes' for all three of my questions. By that definition — one that even the wise sphinx follows — Remus Lupin was a man. I think, he was more of a man than you and I would ever be.

Why, then, did the great Ministry of Magic and whole of the wizarding world classify him as a beast?

The History of Remus Lupin created a bigger question that needs to be answered. One that does not stop at the fictional werewolves, but includes all those who are shunned, bullied, abused, and ridiculed in the real society.

I do not know if we'll ever learn the answer to that. But, I know this: Remus Lupin was human. So are you. So am I.

 **o§o**

 _What is that in the morning goeth upon four feet; upon two feet in the afternoon; and in the evening upon three?_

I searched everywhere.

The answer was, always, 'a man'.

Not a Beast. Never a Beast.

 **o§o**

* * *

 **Word Count:** 1391

 **Prompts used:**

From Psychology Class

• Write about a character who had to grow up too early.

From Writing Club

• Chocolate Covered Anything Day - Write about Remus Lupin


End file.
